Traps to Temptations
by kinghoraynes
Summary: Marshall Lee makes sure she doesn't know.


Chapter 1 – Worth More

Marshall Lee has lived for over a thousand years. He was, is, and forever will be a 17 year-old with shaggy, black hair, pale skin, fangs (pearly and clean, mind you), and a reputation for being the heartthrob in all of Ooo.

Although he only comes out at nighttime, or sometimes never at all, the women swoon over him like hell and won't sleep until they get to see him.

So in short, all girls in Ooo are crazy as fuck.

All, that is, except for one. Or maybe otherwise, a pyschopath? But certainly not for him, he knows this.

Her ocean blue eyes are as beautiful as you can imagine them to be; maybe even better when you see them, it's almost impossible that they are. He's never noticed her before, but now that he's really _seen _her (you know what I mean), it's a heavenly feeling whenever he does.

But here's the thing—Marshall Lee _cannot _fall in love with a mortal. He doesn't even know if it's real love, because vampires like him just don't. Marshall Lee the Vampire King, and a mortal. "But this is no typical-everyday-psychopath-mortal you're talking about. She's an _extraordinary _mortal.

Her blond hair falling over her eyes, and the way she doesn't notice him staring at her when she's pouting, his favorite expression of her, or any other expressions, excluding sadness.

She's perfect, even though she doesn't know it.

But he does.

"Marshall Lee, you prick!" A voice which sounded like a girl shouted out. "You come back here!"

Nighttime was the only time of the day when both of them could come out at the same time and bond together. Although she was sort of annoyed at him, she can't conceal her laugh while he floated away from her.

He merely threw his head back and laughed loudly. "No, I won't come there." He replied. "Catch me first, Fionna." He stuck his tongue out at her, and turned upside down, eyes closed.

Her smile faded and turned to a pout. She turned on her heel and looked over her shoulder, saying, "Fine." Then she stomped away from him and sat on the wet, damp green grass.

Marshall Lee opened his eyes as soon as he heard her retreat. He floated over to her staying in the same posture, until he was level with her face, and he sat down as well.

Her eyes were closed, arms crossed over her chest, legs spread wide open (He thought, "How inviting, Fionna."). He neared his face to hers and inspected her completely. Her white hat is now a dirty off-white color. Her eyebrows were furrowed together in frustration, and she was still pouting.

"Come on now, Fionna." Marshall Lee whispered on her lips. Her eyes snapped open as he did this, and she tackled him, knocking both of them to the ground. She pinned him to the ground, his eyes blinking in confusion. She threw a raspberry and giggled—he loves it when she does. "You fell for it!" she teased.

He tried to break free of Fionna's grip, but she raised a hand to his face. "You stay down there, Marshall Lee." She said. She sighed and closed her eyes. Then she smiled and opened them again. "Don't ever do that _thing _to me again!" She scolded.

He laughed and fixed his gaze on her. "It was all part of your plan, the pouting and the stomping, huh?" he asked. She nodded. "Okay, I won't do that anymore and I'll stay within your reach."

She shook her head this time. He raised an eyebrow. "That's not what I was talking about, shithead. I was talking about your whispering on my lips. That's pervy, man." She said. He realized now what she was saying. He nodded; or at least he thought he was, since it was hard to do so on the ground.

He thought of a way on how to get himself on top while Fionna was trying to drill her lecture into his hard head.

He swiftly floated up and flipped them—Marshall Lee was on top, and Fionna at the bottom. Her eyes widened in shock, and soon she was the one pinned to the ground now. He smirked at her, and she glared at him. Hard. With a solid 'D'.

"Marshall Lee! You let me go now!" she demanded him. He still kept his smirk. "_You stay down there._" He mocked, "Shithead." And he smirked even more.

He noticed how her face glowed in the moonlight and how her eyes coruscated, even if she _was _pouting. He wasn't thinking of anything else but her. How she made him different, how she made him a better man—or better yet, vampire.

Then that's when his thoughts came to an end.

She kneed him in the crotch and he laid down on the ground, groaning in pain. She stood up and brushed the dirt off her clothes, and fixed her skirt. He looked up at it, and when she noticed him, she held it down and blushed.

He found it kind of cute, actually. He stood up as well, and saw a confused Fionna. "Healing powers, remember?" He said. She nodded in realization. "Oh, yeah…" she said, "But I'm still mad at you."

He winked at her and said, "You always are."

Suddenly, something what somehow felt like raindrops fell on Marshall Lee's hand, and he inspected it. _Raindrops _(yay, I was right), he thought. "Fion-" He finished his sentence when he saw Fionna, head up skywards, eyes closed, pouting. "_I hate the rain._" She groaned. "And I'm sleepy. Marshall, can I sleep at your house? Lord Monochromicorn's staying over at ours."

He thought for a while, an eyebrow raised and looking up. "Hmm.. No." He replied, in a straightforward sort of way. He saw her glaring harder. Marshall Lee finally gave up and sighed, "Fine." Fionna jumped at him, her hands finding their way around his neck, and her head resting on his shoulder. She was shivering, he can tell. Her body shaking against his, because of the cold, little droplets of water pouring down on them.

"Take m-me home," Her voice shook at the same time that her body did. "P-please, Marshall." He could sense a slight hint of need in her tone, maybe telling him that he should do so, and immediately as well.

Now, Marshall Lee wasn't one to carry people home, certainly not. He'd only carried one being to another place. And this was the person he'd done it with.

He placed his hand gently on her back, careful not to surprise her. His other hand caught her cold skin under her knees and held them up at her chest level.

Then Fionna spoke. "You're—You're warm." She said, the warmth obvious in her voice, indeed. He blinked at her, and replied, "Go ahead, be comfortable." When he said this, Fionna leaned in closer to his touch and shut her eyes.

Marshall Lee couldn't think of anyone better than Fionna. Although she was soaking wet, she never ceases to amaze him of her beauty. She was oblivious to the fact that Marshall Lee really thought of her as this. And he thinks that she doesn't know it, and it's his job to make her feel so.

He flew back to his cave, and laid Fionna down on the couch, without a care that Fionna wasn't dry yet. Before leaving her to get a towel, he straightened himself up, put his hands in his pockets, and inspected Fionna.

"Nice curves, Fi." He joked and laughed. But in his mind, this was all true. "Perverted prick." She mumbled. He laughed even more at this. Her eyes slowly opened and looked around. She sat up and shivered. "I'm still c-c-cold. You have a t-towel?" He got a clean towel from the table and threw it at her. "P-prick."

He merely snickered at her and went upstairs. Apparently, she was following. "Hey! Where're you—oh." She said disapprovingly at his messy room. "This your room, huh? Last time I checked, it was—well, I dunno—cleaned! By me!" Marshall Lee grabbed his axe-bass and strummed on it, sitting on the windowsill.

She went for the bathroom and changed herself. Marshall Lee just listened from the outside, wondering what she must've been doing in there, and anxious to find out.

Minutes later, she comes out in dry clothes, her hat taken off and hands on hips. He stopped strumming on his axe-bass and stared at her. "What the stuff took you so long?" He asked. She rolled her eyes and went straight for the bed. "Good night, Marshall." She murmured.

She closed her eyes and felt sleep take her over. But it didn't.

Marshall Lee climbed in as well, his hands snaking around her waist, having a strong grip. Her eyes snapped open and looked back at him. She tried to break free, but his hand just felt so lumping heavy despite the slim figure. He was fast asleep, snoring silently.

She tried to elbow him in the chest, but that way, she just felt it thoroughly and blushed, thinking of what they look like from the edge of the bed. Then she just let it be and slept humbly throughout the night, not knowing that Marshall Lee put his hands on hers in the morning and keeping a smile on his face.


End file.
